It's hard to believe its been seven years since the “V/H/S' series burned itself out. The first two films in the found footage anthology trilogy helped directors like Adam Wingard, Simon Barrett, Ti West, David Bruckner, Radio Silence, and Timo Tjahjanto ascend further up the horror A-list. Why not everyone agrees on the quality of those movies, the consensus is that both of them contain at least one fantastic segment. “V/H/S: Viral,” meanwhile, was bad enough to totally derail the franchise's momentum. Yet it's rare that a profitable horror series stays inactive forever. “V/H/S/94” reboots the sex-and-violence spectacle by doubling-down on the retro aesthetic the first two played with. And, seemingly to insure the quality is closer in line to “V/H/S” and “V/H/S/2” than “Viral,” Tjahjanto and Barrett returned to direct segments. (With Bruckner and Radio Silence producing.)
The framing device concerns a SWAT team, in 1994, storming into a warehouse owned by a suicide cult. Alongside the dead bodies, they uncover disturbing video tapes. “Sewer Drain” follows a small town reporter and her cameraman, as they investigate reports of a cryptid known as the Ratman. Descending into the sewer, they discover more than they bargained for. In “The Empty Wake,” a young employee at a funeral home is asked to video tape the wake of a man who died in a terrible accident. As a storm blows in, she notices something disturbing happening in the casket. “The Subject” is about a mad scientist stitching together grotesque cyborgs. When the cops bust in, the creations must defend themselves. Lastly, “Terror” sees a far-right militia group capturing a mythological monster. They hope to use it to further their causes but the beast is not easily controlled.
“The Empty Wake” sees Simon Barrett returning to the series he created, following his solo debut “Séance.” It's the segment that reminds me the most of the first “V/H/S,” in that it has an extremely simple narrative. This one is really just a girl alone in a room with a dead body. It is mostly interested in exploiting the found footage style for atmosphere. The occasional freaky noise is enough to put you ill-at-ease. You also find yourself rooting for the protagonist, a bored teenage girl trying to pass the time and keep her job. The conclusion to the segment features some creative and very creepy gore effects. A novel spin is put on the premise of a walking corpse, to squirm-inducing effect.
“Terror” was handled by Ryan Prows, previously of “Lowlife.” This is the segment with the most humor in it. The militia is staggeringly incompetent, constantly undermining their own attempts at being taken seriously. It's not surprising when they do more harm to themselves than anyone else with their heavy artillery at the end... But it is pretty funny. Prows also highlights how hyper-masculinity like this also, often, barely disguises homoerotic tendencies. The cameraman seems fixated on men peeing and kissing. Once the monster – I won't spoil exactly what it is – gets loose, we are greeted to a cleverly horrific reinvention of a classic character. My only real criticism of this one is that its sequences of splattering violence are repetitive, at least until you figure out what their purpose in the story is.
Early in the lifespan of the Halloween Blog-a-thon, I reviewed as many of the classic Universal Studios monster movies as I could get my hands on. I've tried to carry on this tradition by including at least one vintage horror flick from Universal in each year's marathon. Yet, since I've already reviewed all the well known and easily accessible examples, I've been forced to seek out increasingly more obscure Universal films. Which brings us to “The Missing Guest” from 1938. This hard-to-find movie is most notably for being a remake of “Secret of the Blue Room,” an obscure old dark house flick Universal made only five years earlier. (Which was itself a remake of a German film.) I thought that one was alright, so it stands to reason this one will be decent too, right?
The Baldrich mansion is home to the Blue Room, a supposedly haunted room that has been sealed off after a mysterious murder occurred there twenty years ago. Reporter "Scoop" Hanlon is tasked with staying a night in the cursed room. He arrives at the mansion to find an elaborate costume party. There he meets Stephanie, the daughter of the mansion's current owner. Her attempted beau Larry decides to brave the Blue Room. When Larry mysteriously vanishes the next morning, Scoop is suspected of the crime. More murder and mystery ensues as everyone attempts to unravel the enigma of the Blue Room.
However, the movie still has the occasional moment of notable classic horror atmosphere. There's a great scene early on, where the camera assumes the perspective of a guest arriving at the mansion. We see the door open and the maid scream. More people are shocked into silence as this unseen figure walks back. Soon, this intruder is revealed to be a ghostly spectre who then exposes a grotesque face. It's all a practical joke, we immediately find out, but it's still the highlight of the movie. There's also some notable use of shadows, cobwebs, and a spooky basement in the last act. The isolated mansion setting paired with a dark and stormy night -- heavy shades of "The Cat and the Canary" there -- provides some nice, spooky vibes. But the movie never comes remotely close to topping that P.O.V. sequence.
All the stuff involving the reporter and the detectives are new but, from what I recall, this hews fairly closely to the 1933 version. Universal would retell this story again only six years later, this time as a musical/comedy called "Murder in the Blue Room." I guess I have to watch that one next year. (All of these movies are in black-and-white, by the way, so use your imagination to add the blue.) To sum it up, "The Missing Guest" is totally typical of the underachieving old dark house mysteries Universal, and other studios, pumped out by the dozens in the thirties and forties. It's got one stand-out scene, which is enough to satisfy my desire for some old black-and-white atmosphere, but it has little else of interest to offer. At least it's less tedious than "Secret of the Chateau." [5/10]
Who mourns for Quibi? Jeffrey Katzenberg's extremely dumb idea for a streaming service provided subscribers with “quick bites” of big budget, high quality entertainment. So they have something to watch on their phones while waiting in line at the D.M.V. or, I don't know, sitting on the toilet or whatever. Quibi had the bad luck to launch during a year when nobody had much cause to leave their houses. Yet even in a non-pandemic landscape, I can't imagine a venture like this being that successful. A number of big name talents were attracted to the service. At least one of the shows struck me as kind of interesting. That would be “50 States of Fright,” an anthology series linked by the idea of drawing stories from the folklore and history of every American state.
“50 States of Fright” was produced by Sam Raimi. He would direct the first episode as well. “The Golden Arm,” naturally, is set in Raimi's home state of Michigan. It concerns Dave, a humble lumberjack. His wife, Heather, has expensive taste and demands the best things in life. One fateful day, he asks her to help him chop down a tree. This is when an accident occurs, that results in her arm pinned under a fallen tree. Dave is forced to chop it off to save her. Afterwards, her vanity causes her to reject having a stump for one arm. Dave decides to build a prosthetic for her and Heather demands it be built from gold. The gold poisons her blood and leads to a quick death. When Dave goes to retrieve the arm he made, it has unforeseen consequences for him.
Despite a story that can charitably be called dumb, “The Golden Arm” isn't totally disposable. Sam Raimi doesn't let the “made for cellphones” format leash his distinctive style any. Heather's arm being cleaved off leads to an “Evil Dead” style spray of blood covering the screen. As Dave hears creepy sounds in the empty house, the camera crash-zooms on various objects. There's some swirling perspective shots, especially when the vengeful ghost of the wife leaps out of a door. An especially clever bit has a photograph changing, from nostalgic to ominous, every time the husband looks at it. And the gore is nicely brutal too. “The Golden Arm” is cut into three parts – the first and last six minutes, the middle ten – which makes it easy to watch this as a half-hour of television, now that Roku has rescued Quibi's doomed programming. I don't know if the rest of the episodes will have much impact without Raimi's skills behind the camera but I'm sort of interested in trying them out. [6/10]
Screaming Mad George is one of those names you forever associate with the really outrageous horror movies of the eighties. This is the guy who made the famous shunting of “Society” possible. Yet before he became an in-demand special effects artist, George – real name Jôji Tani – was a singer in the New York hardcore punk scene. His band, The Mad, became infamous for incorporating bloody special effects into their shows. They would also play demented 8mm movies George and his friends made behind them on-stage, to further enhance the ambiance. Among these films was “It Took Guts,” a near plotless seven minute experience that concerns a teenager who gets a taste of his own blood... And then decides he wants some more.
Screaming Mad George is only officially credited with the music for “It Took Guts,” a churning and discordant rock score that gets more frantic as it goes on. But I imagine he had some input in the short film's content as well. The effects aren't nearly as crude as I expected. Yeah, the blood is a little washed-out and watery. A fake eyeball that features prominently doesn't look too convincing. And the ream of titular guts that spill out on-screen, and are quickly consumed afterwards, look like they might be made from ground hamburger. Yet it's all way better done then you'd expect from a bunch of kids screwing around on-camera. The scene of the boy slicing his own belly open is surprisingly convincing.
No comments:
Post a Comment